Better this way
by ilrahcbow
Summary: Sequel to 'Couldn't leave good enough alone'-a body swap between Germany and Italy. After experiencing what Germany's powerful and strong body is like, Italy begins to pity his own pathetic inabilities. He remembers that, in dying, he will become human and no longer be a nation and so takes the plunge to becoming mortal.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a sequel to 'Couldn't leave good enough alone'-a body swap between Germany and Italy. After experiencing what Germany's powerful and strong body is like, Italy begins to pity his own pathetic inabilities. It does work as a stand-alone story anyway so enjoy!

"Are you sure you're OK?" Germany began, a hint of concern in his emotionless voice.

"You've been... _quieter_ than usual recently and-"

"I'm fine." Italy smiled. Germany reciprocated the gesture.

"Fine. I'll be back in a little while. I'm going to be down at the bar if you need me."

"Alright. See you then!" Italy cheered as Germany made his way down the road.

He sighed and closed the front door behind him. He hung forward, his arms dangling and hair flopping over his face. Upon righting himself, Italy dragged himself upstairs and into the bathroom. He flicked on the light. The harsh overhead lamp made Italy's skin appear even pastier and anaemic than usual. He stared at himself in the mirror. Disgusting. Flimsy, small, and weak-everything Germany wasn't. He was _brave_ and _tall_ and _strong_. He took all his strengths in his stride and brushed them off as if they were nothing. As if they were just a feature any normal person was born with. Italy couldn't believe himself. Was he _resenting_ his own friend? No! He turned away from the mirror, clutching the roots of his hair. Dropping to his knees, the boy found fat tears clinging to his eyes. He really _was_ pathetic. But it didn't seem to matter what he did, he would _never_ be strong or brave. Despite all the years of strict military training, all the advice given to him from both Germany and Rome on how to be a good country, Italy never seemed to understand. He had to be treated like a child-not able to do anything for himself. How stupid _was_ he? All the swirling thoughts eddied like a turbulent river in his mind, himself at the centre, slowly drowning. He sat, sobbing silently on the cold stone tiles, his head hung.

Eventually, he looked up.

"Enough." he spat bitterly. "I'm done here. I'm an _embarrassment_ to Germany. _And_ the other nations too. Perhaps...it's best if I weren't a nation at all." The boy wiped his swollen eyes and struggled to his feet. "That's _right_." Italy's face began to light up, his tear stricken eyes darting back and forth on the floor. "Grandpa Rome once told me, if a country dies, it becomes human. So if _I_ die, then I'll become human too." A small smile grew on his flushed face. "I won't have to be strong or brave. I can just be... _me_." He craned his neck to look at the clock above the bathroom door. "Germany will be home soon, so I've got to do something quickly. I don't want him to be here when I die. I don't want to make him upset." Italy moved over to the door and locked it tight. Upon opening the bathroom cabinet, his eyes rested upon a brown bottle of pills. He reached and carefully brought down the heavy glass container. Facing the mirror once more, Italy looked deep into his own eyes as he tipped the whole jar of pills into his palm, a glass of water ready and waiting on the side of the basin. As he swallowed the tablets, one after another, a dark thought struck the boy. He'd never see Germany again. Humans can't see nations. Germany could be walking right beside him and he's never even know it. But it was too late now. The bottle was empty.

"Italy, I'm home." Germany called, closing the front door behind him. Silence. "That's weird." he mused. "Usually he'd run up to me and hug me by now. Italy? Did you hear me? I'm back!" Germany peered inside the living room and then the kitchen. Just as a slight sense of worry began to crawl its way inside his head, he suddenly realised the situation. "Ah! I see it now. He's hiding from me. Well, if he wants me to find him, I'll play his silly game." Germany chuckled and marched upstairs.

After searching through all the obvious hiding spots, both upstairs and downstairs, worry began to return to Germany. He suddenly realised, just as he was about to make his way back downstairs, that the bathroom door was locked. "That's strange. The only way that can be locked is...if someone is _inside_! Italy, are you in there?" Germany rapped on the door and waited for a response. Nothing. The man got down on all fours and twisted his neck to look under the crack of the door. The shadow of a body on the floor made Germany gasp sharply. He leapt to his feet and banged on the door. "Italy! What's going on in there! Open up-are you OK!" Still there was no reply. Germany hesitated for a moment, biting his lip. "Schizer, something must have happened to him. Idiot." The man turned back towards the door and composed himself for a moment, before ramming himself at full force against it. With a couple of blows the door swung open and Italy's lifeless body, sprawled across the tiles was revealed. The born bottle lay in fragments beside him. "Mein Gott, _Italy_!" Germany dropped to his knees beside the boy and scooped up his floppy body, his head rolling backwards. "No..." The man looked to the broken pill bottle, tears forming in his eyes. "Italy!" he cried. "Please Italy! Wake up! Wake _up_!" The young man lay still in Germany's arms. Tears poured down the man's face. " _ITALY!"_

End of Chapter 1

 **A/N:** Well that was intense! Find out in the next chapter to see whether Italy's plan is a success and whether being human is as desirable as it seemed...


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey? _Hey_!" Italy slowly awoke to find his whole body being shaken gently. He opened his eyes, suddenly blinded by the intense light. A concerned face, unfamiliar to the boy stared back at him. "Hey man, are you OK? I found you unconscious by this tree." The boy looked all about him. He was in some kind of square. Italy's head spun. He found himself lapsing in and out of consciousness. He smiled wearily towards the man.

"Are you a country?" The man blinked, unsure how to respond.

"N-no..."

"Meraviglioso*!" he cried, leaping to his feet. "Neither am I!" The other man took a cautionary step back.

"Um...Are you sure you're OK? Did you hit your head or something?"

"Nope." Italy beamed. "A lot more than just that-but that doesn't matter now! You can _see_ me! You can _hear_ me! I'm _human_!" The boy spun round in circles, his arms spread out wide, a huge grin on his face.

"Well, if you're sure you're OK, I'll be on my way then." Italy stopped spinning and ran over, shaking the man's hand.

"Thank you! Thank you for being the first human I ever meet-you were really too kind! Ciao!" Italy smiled and skipped cheerfully out of the square, leaving the man frozen with confusion.

Italy walked down the busy high-street, a broad smile fixed upon his face. He had no purpose, no worries, no responsibilities. Everything he ever wanted out of life. This was the happiest he'd truly been of late. If only Germany could see how happy he was. _I have to forget all of that now._ He thought. _Everything I was as a country, I have to act like it never happened. Like I was never one of them. Like I was never Italy. Like I never even knew of the other countries. Even Germany._ The thought saddened him; having to forget his best friend for the pursuit of his own happiness. But he was pushed around all his life-ever since he was an infant he was always a puppet, controlled by someone more powerful. Now he was his own master and losing friends was just a sacrifice he'd have to make. He'd make new friends here though, surely? Easily. He was cheery enough and lighthearted enough to make people happy. He would be able to forget about everyone before he even knew it! Italy continued to walk down the hughstreet. The more he tried to avoid thinking about his past, the more it clung to the front of his mind. _No! I sacrificed everything to be happy here!_ Images of time spent with Germany flashed in front of him. Germany was... _smiling_ and looking to him affectionately. And Italy saw a vision of himself looking back at his companion adoringly. He stopped dead in the street. People knocked past him, glancing irritably in passing. The boy stood, unfazed, his face blank. _Germany's the reason I was so depressed to start with. He made me realise how pathetic I am compared to him. Why must he be the one that haunts me! I don't care for him! He was nothing to me!_ Italy shook his head and hastened down the road, still no wiser as to where he was going.

Germany sat with his head hung, his eyes closed. The meeting around him seemed to distance and warp away from him as he sunk into internal despair. It had been two days now and still he found himself as if he had just discovered Italy's dead body. The sight of his lifeless eyes, his thin, flimsy body strewn across the tiles. The harsh lighting catching the fragments of the pill bottle. He'd never felt so much pain in all his life. All the scars from war didn't hurt as much. He figured it was because scars can heal. Death cannot. He lifted a heavy head and tried to return his attention to the meeting around him. Germany was somewhat surprised to find Britain conducting the meeting, in place of where America usually stood.

"It is our duty as fellow nations to find out _why_ he was willing to go to such extreme lengths and to prevent anything like this happening in the future. Germany," Britain turned to the man "Since you were the one first to the scene, do you have any speculations on Italy's... _decision_?" Germany shook his head. He opened his weak mouth to speak, the words dying on his dry lips.

"Well, ever since a...certain _incident_ ," he began, snatching a glance at Britain. Britain nodded, understanding his reference. "He's been acting less like himself. This had been going on for about a month now. I couldn't place it then and I still can't place it now." Britain raised a hand to his head, combing his fingers through his thick blonde hair. He looked down at the desk, thinking, his lips pursed. Everyone watched him in silence.

"Germany, may I talk outside with you for a moment?" Germany rose to his feet, anticipation bubbling inside him. "Everyone else just keep to your seats and try not to start another war while we're gone." Britain tucked in his chair and hastened out of the board room, Germany close behind him.

"You don't suppose you're the reason he killed himself, do you?" Britain spoke in a low voice, no louder than a whisper.

" _Me_? What! How could you even say something like that!"

"Shh! Keep your voice down. I don't want any of them to overhear any of this." Britain composed himself and continued. "It's just that, you said...Italy had been acting strangely ever since you and him swapped bodies?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Then it may be as I predicted."

"What?"

"Jealousy."

" _Jealousy_?"

" _Think_ about it, Germany!" Britain whispered sharply. "You saw for yourself didn't you? When Italy was in your body he was being _threatening_ towards me. And then you must have heard him complaining when I changed you both back again. I think Italy envied your power."

"B-but...why would he be jealous of that?"

"Because it means he will never be a strong country! He looks up to you! You're a role model to him and he didn't have the capability to be like you."

"So he's dead...because of _me_?"

"I can't be sure. But now we'll never know. He'll never hear us."

"Hear us?" Britain blinked blankly at Germany as if he were stupid.

"Don't tell me you didn't know..."

"Know what?"

"When a country dies, it becomes human."

"WHAT!" Germany cried.

" _Ssshhhhh_! They'll hear us!" Britain snapped. "Yes. But he can't see or hear us nations anymore." Germany's gaze dropped to the floor as if he were struggling to think something through in his head.

"He won't survive a day out there all by himself. I have to go after him." He muttered inaudibly. Suddenly, the man spun on his heel and was quickly sprinting down the corridor.

"Germany wait!" Britain called after him. "Where are you going! _Please_! Don't do anything reckless! He's not _worth_ it!" But it was too late. Germany had disappeared from sight. Britain passed a hand to his head. _Shit_.

Italy walked with his head down, hands in his pockets weaving in and out of narrow by-streets. The sun was beginning to set and a cold chill had slowly descended upon his shoulders. It was then that he realised, he had nowhere to go. He didn't know anyone here and he had no money to pay for a room. Maybe he just didn't have to sleep. Germany's bed would have been perfect on a night like this. The cream duvet to keep him warm and the reassuring presence of Germany beside him. Instead, he was alone and with nowhere to go. Italy was quickly regretting the decision to become human. Even now, he was still as stupid and pathetic as ever. He couldn't plan ahead and didn't even think about the consequences of taking such drastic actions. _Useless._ He clamped his eyes shut, wrapping both arms around each other, trying to hold back the tears squashing their way up his throat. As he continued to walk, he was aware of passing of someone. The small, rounded footsteps of the other person suddenly stopped.

"I-Italy?"

 **End of Chapter 2**

* Translation: Meraviglioso=Wonderful

 **A/N: Who is it? And what will Germany decide to do? Find out soooon!**


	3. Chapter 3

Italy froze and turned slowly over his shoulder. A tall, lean man with messy silver hair stared back at him, red eyes blazing.

"P-Prussia?" Italy faltered. The boy hesitated before running into the man, embracing him tightly.

"Italy, what the hell are you doing here?" The boy drew himself away and looked up.

"I died. I became human, like you did."

"B-but...but _how_? There aren't any wars, no one's fighting! Who killed you?"

"I did." he replied gravely. Prussia looked at the boy in disbelief. He blinked dumbfounded.

"W-what? Why the hell would you do that!"

"I thought it was a good idea!" Italy cried, tears rushing uncontrollably to his eyes. "I thought that if I became human I wouldn't have to look so pathetic in front of the other countries and I wouldn't have to be an embarrassment to Germany..." he trailed off. Prussia continued to stare at the boy in stupefaction. His shock soon turned to disgusted pity, anger flashing in his eyes for a moment. Both stood in silence before Prussia pulled the boy back in close, wrapping his arms around his small frame.

"You idiot." Prussia whispered sharply. Italy sniffed, his sobs buried in the man's clothes. "What were you thinking! Do you know how hard it is to live as a human! You have no idea how long it took me to get where I am now. You don't realise, Italy. You can't just... _change_. It's like being born again. You have to build a reputation for yourself, meet new friends, find work. You're not a nation anymore so you can't afford to act like one."

"What do you mean?"

"Your identity. You're a new person now. There's no going back so you'll have to live with the consequences. You'll have to create a whole new history for yourself, new friends, new family and a new name."

"A new name?" Italy echoed.

"Well you can't go round calling yourself 'Italy', can you?" The boy shook his head.

"Feliciano. That will be your name."

"B-but I don't like that name!" Italy wined.

"That _doesn't matter_!" Prussia barked, turning round and facing the floor. The boy shrank back in fear. "You've done enough damage already, Italy. Don't do any more."

"What...I don't understand." Prussia slowly turned his head, unexplainable pain flickering dimly in his eyes. But it was not pain of his own. It was of someone else.

"Not only are you stupid...but you're selfish too."

"Selfish? How! What did I do!"

"Did you even _think_ about Romano or Germany? Did you even consider how _they're_ feeling right now? Italy, you're the closest friend Germany's ever had! Every night he'd come and never stop talking about you! No one ever cared for him the way you did and he looked to _you_ as an inspiration and a source of happiness! And look what you've done! You left him. You _abandoned_ him. Him _and_ Romano-you're _only_ brother."

"Germany...looked _up_ to me? B-but I'm not brave! I'm not strong! I'm not tall!"

"You don't have to be to be a good friend, Italy." Prussia replied softly, a fraternal hint in his voice the boy had never heard before. Thoughts struck Italy one after the next, sharp knives slicing straight through his body. He sank to his knees and doubled over on the floor.

"What have I done!" he sobbed loudly. "I'm so sorry Germany!"

"Italy, there's no use in crying. It won't change what's done. Nothing can now. You just have to accept the consequences. _You_ made the decision to be this way. You only have yourself to blame. Come on, I'll take you back to my place." Italy looked up with swollen eyes. Prussia stood with his hand outstretched. The boy took it and got to his feet.

"Mein Gott! _Italy_! _East_?" a voice called behind them. Both men apparently ignored the voice and continued walking. Germany stumbled to a halt, desperately out of breath. "Italy! West! Come back!" he called hoarsely. Both men carried on regardless. _Why the hell can't they hear me_ , Germany thought. With one last exert of energy, the man staggered after the other two. He gained on them within no time and rushed ahead of them. "Italy, East! It's me! Why aren't you-" At that moment, Italy and Prussia, who, to Germany, were paying no attention to him, suddenly passed right through him, as if he were a ghost. Germany gasped sharply and whipped round to find the two men walking off, unfazed. _They can't see me! They can't hear me! I'm completely invisible to them!_ Germany passed a hand to his head and decided to follow them.

Italy shut the bedroom door behind him and sighed deeply. Germany followed him inside and watched as he collapsed pathetically on the bed. His flimsy figure lay still for a moment before he noticed his back began tremble. Then the sobs became apparent. The man walked over and crouched beside the bed. The boy lay flat on his stomach, his head twisted to the side, almost as if he were facing Germany. The man looked on with pity as Italy's face crumpled and tears streamed down his flushed cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Germany." he whispered in a cracked voice. Germany froze, hairs standing up on his neck. He quickly reminded himself that he was invisible. "I'm so stupid! Ti prego perdonami. Ti prego perdonami.*" Instinctively, Germany reached out and made to wipe away the tears lingering on Italy's face, only to find his hand pass straight through the other's body. _Dammit._ Germany stood up and placed himself at the edge of the bed. Like a faithful dog, he watched the boy until he eventually fell asleep. He walked back over and knelt down before him.

"Italy." he began. "I'm not going to let you suffer like this. Just hold on a little longer. I'm coming."

"Hey Prussia?" Italy piped up, sipping from his glass the next morning.

"Hm?"

"Is there a way I can forget everything?"

"What?" the man brought over a tray of two plates and sat down at the table, opposite the boy. Germany observed from the corner of the room.

" _Forget everything_?" The boy nodded.

"I feel like...maybe its better if I just don't remember anything at all and I just... _start again._ "

"But Italy, all your memories of Germany and Japan..."

"I know...I know. But I think I'm only going to be able to live with myself if I don't remember ever even meeting them. It'll be better that way." Germany stood up straight. _Please don't do this Italy. You don't know what you're doing._

"I understand." Prussia smiled sympathetically. "If you truly feel that way then I can't deny you of your instincts. There _is_... _one_ place."

"Then you have to take me there! Please, as soon as possible! I cannot bare having these horrible memories in my head!"

"No, Italy!" Germany cried in vein. "Please! Think about this! You're making the wrong decision!"

"Very well. We'll go tonight." Prussia nodded, sipping from his mug. Germany passed a hand to his head and bit his lip. _Schizer_. _There's another damn meeting today and people will get suspicious if I don't turn up. No. I have to do this._

A few hours later and Germany was back home, standing in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror, just like Italy had done a few days before. The front door was locked from the inside. So was the bathroom door. They'd have a hard time getting to him. Which was what he wanted. From his back pocket, Germany found purchase on a small, slim black revolver that glistened under the harsh overhead light. He held the gun to his forehead, staring into his own, cold blue gaze.

"I'm coming, Italy."

 **End of Chapter 3**

Translation: Ti prego perdonami=please forgive me

 **A/N: Well! Intense? I hope so! Will things all wrap in the next chapter? Will Germany be able to find Italy in time before he wipes his memory completely? Find out soooon!**


	4. Chapter 4

Germany blinked and opened his eyes. His body was limp and numb. He could feel nothing. Upon glancing about, he realised he was slumped against the crux of a wall, in a dark, damp alley way. Experimentally, the man rose to his feet and combed a hand through the thick mass of slick blonde hair. _Well, I guess I made it. But where the hell am I,_ he thought, craning his head in all directions to try and gain some sense of location. _It looks kind of like the alley I saw Italy and East in. Shcizer, but they could be anywhere by now. I have to find them before Italy wipes his memory! What if I'm too late? No! I have to try!_ Germany took off down the alley way, a dark sensation of doubt growing in his stomach.

"Where did you say this place is, Prussia?" Italy asked as the two men walked side by side down the high street.

"Please, don't call me that in public. That's not my name anymore, Italy. I have adopted 'Gilbert' as much as you will learn to adopt 'Feliciano'. We're not countries anymore. And yes, this place isn't that far from here. Just keep going straight." Silence descended upon the two men. Italy's mind began to fill with guilt and conflict. Was this right? Could he truly bring himself to wipe his memory of everything he'd ever known? He would forget all the places he used to know. All the _faces_ he used to know. And he'd live his life, forgetting about his best and only true friend, who he deserted and left to suffer alone. No! Maybe it _was_ better this way. By starting again, he wouldn't have to be weighed down by the loathsome guilt that dragged his heart to the floor.

Germany emerged at the foot of a backstreet, out of breath and red in the face. He looked both ways before pressing on, turning left decidedly. _Please let me be not be too late._

"This is it." Prussia announced. He turned to the boy who stood gazing absently at the shop sign. "C'mon. What are you waiting for? Go in already! It doesn't look cool to just hang about outside." Italy turned to Prussia and nodded, following him inside the shop. He glanced wistfully over his shoulder as the door shut slowly behind him. _That's the last time I'll ever see sunlight with my old memory. "_ Hey!" The boy looked up. Prussia stood at the counter where a shady figure in glasses stood, a cigar resting between his lips. Thick waves of smoke blurred Italy's vision of the man's features. He stepped tentatively forward, gripping the lapels of his jacket. This was a mistake. He shouldn't be here. The men talked in low, inaudible voices, a small smile playing on Prussia's face. The man nodded, stealing a glance at Italy, before disappearing round a corner. Prussia turned back to face the boy. "He's gone to find the mix."

Germany found himself at the bottom of the high street. Where the hell was Prussia's house! He remembered what it looked like but there were no houses around here that looked even remotely similar to that of his brother's. He continued to sprint down the road never the less, in hope of finding some invaluable clue as to Italy's whereabouts.

Meanwhile, Britain hastened down the road to Germany and (late) Italy's house. His head pounded with worry. Germany hadn't attended the meeting that morning and Germany _never_ misses a meeting. Even after Italy's death, he still came to every single one. The thought that something awful might have happened began to fill his whole body with terror. And it would be _all his fault_. _He_ was the one who swapped Germany and Italy's body in the first place, which made Italy self conscious and kill himself. Then, _he_ was the one who told Germany the consequences of a nation dying, planting God knows what kind of ideas in the man's head. With all these spiralling thoughts, Britain barely noticed he had made it all the way to the front door of the house. He swallowed and composed himself before rapping on the door. No response.

"Germany? Are you home?" he called. Nothing. _Maybe he's just out_. The man stood back and squinted. "Hang on a second." He paused for a moment. From where he stood, he could make out the glow of a light from inside the house. Someone was still inside. With a somewhat regained sense of hope, Britain knocked on the door again, louder and more agitated this time. "Germany, why won't you open up! It's me, Britain! Please! I just want to talk to you-is everything alright in there!" Silence. _Shit. Something must have happened._ In panic, Britain drew away from the house, clutching at the roots of his hair and turned back, sprinting out of the front garden.

"I believe this is the concoction the young man requires." the shady man returned, holding out a black, dusty glass bottle, no taller than the man's palm. Prussia smiled and took the bottle graciously, handing it to Italy. Italy twisted the rubber cork off of the glass and held out the beaker with a trembling hand.

"Feliciano," he began. "I'll give you a moment to yourself. I won't crowd you. I'll just be outside." Prussia smiled and as he passed, grabbed Italy's hand to shake it. In a low, whispered voice he told Italy "You were a good boy. Foolish but loyal. I can only hope the man you become can mirror that." And with that, he left the shop and rested against the shop window. Italy bit his lip and composed himself.

Germany continued to run. He longer tried to keep track of where he was. His concern had grown too strong to rationalise anymore. He had to stop Italy from wiping his memory at all costs. He staggered tirelessly through the streets, weaving recklessly in and out of other passers-by. A hand suddenly grabbed at his jacket from behind. The man whipped round and gasped sharply.

" _East_?!"

"West?!"

"What the hell are you doing here!" they both shouted. Germany suddenly grabbed Prussia's lapels and looked him wildly in the eye.

"Italy! Where the hell is Italy!"

"I-inside! But East you're too-" Germany didn't even stop to hear what his brother had to say. He burst through the doors to find Italy holding a black bottle to his lips.

" _ITALY NO_!" He cried. The boy suddenly lunged forward, dropping the bottle. He twisted his body round, his face growing pale at the sight of Germany, before suddenly flopping to the floor. "Italy!" Germany rushed to the boy's side. Italy lay half conscious, black liquid trickling from his mouth. He looked to Germany in despair.

"Why did you come here, Germany?" he said weakly. "Why did you kill yourself to be here?" The boy spoke, barely audible, tears flowing from his eyes. Germany lifted the boy's small frame and embraced him tightly.

"Because you're my friend, Italy! And I couldn't let you suffer like this!"

"You're too late. I've already swallowed some of the liquid. I can feel some of my m-memory...fading." The boy's amber eyes rolled back lifelessly. Germany shook the boy firmly by the shoulders.

"Stay with me Italy! Don't forget who you are! You are the strongest country I know! The most caring! The most understanding! The most selfless! Please! Don't forget! Don't forget!" Germany's words seemed warp and distort around the boy as he found himself lapsing into unconsciousness.

"Everyone!" Britain shouted, slamming his fists down on the board table. "This is an emergency. Something's happened to Germany! We have to go and find out what's the matter. I fear...I fear its bad." The man scanned the room. All of the allies and Japan, the last remaining axis member, nodded and rose from their seats.

 **End of Chapter 4**

 **A/N: Nearly done! One more and I think everything should be wrapped up! Will Britain and the rest of the nations be able to save Germany and Italy? Will Italy be able to recover all his memories? Find out soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Harder!" Britain called as Russia as Russia and America threw their weight against the front door of Germany's house. Britain with an anticipated eye to the hinges, which were loosening with every blow. Snap! The door broke from its hinges and collapsed. "Right!" Britain commanded, leaping through the door first. "Everyone split up!" The man's instincts led him straight upstairs, for he had seen a light on up there the night before. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, his attention quickly fixed upon the small shaft of light radiating from underneath the bathroom door. Britain froze for a moment.  
"Dude, what is it?" America spoke from behind. Britain stepped to the side and pointed to the door. America overtook him and banged loudly on the bathroom door. "Germany! Hey! You in there?" As Britain guessed, there was no response from the other side. "Britain, the door's locked and someone's inside!" The dark feeling from before returned and twisted endlessly in his stomach. He slowly approached the door and swallowed.  
"Then it break it down, America." The man nodded, sensing Britain's angst, and, after a few blows, the door was down. Germany's body lay stretched across the tiles, a slim black revolver in his open hand. His head lay in a pool of dark, dry blood. America let out a a cry and rushed to the man's side. Britain stood in the doorway, looking down coldly at Germany. I told you not to do anything reckless.  
"Shit..." America faltered, stumbling to his feet. He ran to the top of the stairs and called loudly down. One by one, the other nations came bounding up the stairs. They all huddled around where Britain stood.  
"Germany..." Japan trailed off.  
"Why would he do this!" France interjected. While the other counties began to freak, Britain remained exactly as he had, staring absently at the dead man.  
"He's gone after Italy." he stated bluntly. Everyone stopped talking.  
"Done...what?"  
"It doesn't matter." Britain shook his head. "Its too complicated to try and explain. All you need to know is that this whole mess is my fault and I intend to fix it. America, I'm leaving in you charge to take charge of this. Take care of the mess. Japan, you're coming with me. Help me with Germany's body."

Italy's head spun. He could hear a voice shouting to him, warping and stretching around him but he could not understand what they said. The sounds around him began to swirl and mix together to form a monotonous drone, weighing down in his mind. Then, slowly, the sounds began to separate and the voice became clearer and crisper, as if it were emerging to the surface of a pool of water. He opened his eyes. A pair of bright, blue eyes met his gaze, fear and concern glistening in his pupils. The man's name died on his lips.  
"Italy! Italy, are you OK!" the man cried. The boy could not say a word. The man's face-he knew it! He had seen it before! His name was buried deep inside him and he could not retrieve it. Tears began to roll down Italy's cheeks as he continued to stare helplessly at the other. "Schizer!" Germany seethed through gritted teeth, embracing the boy tightly.  
"I tried to warn you. You're too late." a voice said before him. Germany raised his head. Prussia's silhouetted figure stood in the shop entrance, his features cast in darkness. Germany's face suddenly crumpled.  
"How could you let him do this! How could you do this!" he screamed. Prussia stood unchanged.  
"This was his own choice, not mine. I respected his wishes and you will too, because thats what friends do."  
"Friends don't allow recklessness, East! What have you done..." he trailed off, drawing himself away from the boy. Italy stared weakly at the man, his face red and flustered. "Italy...please say you remember me. Please..." The boy struggled, desperately searching for any of the memories of the man, but no past images of him sprung to mind. He felt as if he had never met him-but then, his face seemed familiar. All he could muster to say was 'W-who are you...' Germany recoiled in shock and clapped a hand over his mouth, shaking his head in disbelief.  
"No...no! Italy, its me! Germany!" the boy slowly shook his head, closing his eyes.  
"I don't know who you are." he whispered painfully, tears clinging to his eye lashes.

Japan watched the queer sight before him. He stood in Britain's spacious basement, before him, the bodies of Italy and Germany lay side by side. Britain, meanwhile, was occupying himself, looking for a book in his immense library. Japan silently stared at his two dead companions. How strange it was to see two such energy-filled personalities, lying inert before him. Italy's beaming face was pale and emotionless. Germany's passionate eyes were closed, his face equally as pale. Japan found himself undisturbed by the sight, but rather, anticipated. If Britain's magic could somehow solve this whole problem, he would see his friends living again. Everything would be as it was. Britain suddenly returned, holding a thick, snakeskin backed book. He smiled to Japan.  
"What I'm going to attempt is something I've never done before. But, as I see it, this could be the only way to fix this whole mess. And although it serves very dangerous to the spell caster, me, I figure I deserve whatever pain it inflicts-after all, its my fault Germany and Italy are dead." He glanced quickly to Japan, a knowledgeable smile on his face.  
"You don't mind me asking do you, but what do you plan to do, Mr Britain?" The man's smile grew as he opened the book.  
"I'm going to turn back time." Japan let out a small gasp.  
"But Mr Britain-"  
"I know, I know. But I have to do it. It's the only way to set things right again. I'm going to travel all the way back to that meeting, all those weeks ago, where I first thought to change Germany and Italy's personalities. It'll be like none of this ever happened. OK. I'm ready." Britain stepped forward, turning back once over his shoulder. "If I don't come back...please remember that I tried." he smiled and pulled the hood of his clock over his head. Japan watched as Britain bowed his head and read quietly from the book, in a foreign tongue he could only assume to be latin. Golden strips of light sprung one by one from the floor and began to coil themselves around the man. Eventually, he was completely covered by strips of light that all twisted endlessly. He made to move forward and in an instant the light was gone and so was Britain.

Britain opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by white light. Upon turning all ways, he began to hear noises, all slowly flooding into earshot. The white light began to fade and the man found himself found himself standing in some kind of shop. Before him, sat Germany, hunched over and sobbing. Italy lay facing him, gravely. What had happened? Before he could say anything, the scene disappeared and the white light seemed to transport him to another place. Germany stood in the bathroom, the gun held to his head. Britain made to call out but the scene was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Then, images of Italy crying into Prussia's shoulder in the alleyway appeared and quickly disappeared, followed by Italy standing in the same position as Germany, swallowing the bottle of tablets. The images sped up, rushing past Britain like a blur. Then, everything seemed to stop and Britain shook his head, disoriented. He began to hear familiar voices. The white light slowly melted away like thawing ice, and the full board room began to materialise in front of him. Upon looking down he saw himself sitting at one of the chairs. He moved closer and found himself drawn to touch his other self on the shoulder. The moment he made contact, a brilliant light erupted from his finger and exploded in the room.

Britain awoke slowly, his head resting on the desk. "Ugh." he sighed heavily, the noise lost in the chaos around him, and threw his head back in frustration. "Another disastrous meeting." he thought. "Frog-face has been at me all morning, Russia hasn't stopped creeping China out since he arrived, Japan's asleep, America's stuffing his face in the corner-is that somewhat sitting next to him, who is that? I don't know. And then there's those two." Britain's focus landed on Germany and Italy. A sense of dajavu washed over the man. An alien thought struck him and passed as soon as it had come. Instead, he just chuckled to himself. "How queer."

 **The end**


End file.
